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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26818132">his rival it seems had broken his dreams</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/doublejoint/pseuds/doublejoint'>doublejoint</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>peachtober 2020 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Post-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:14:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,034</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26818132</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/doublejoint/pseuds/doublejoint</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Takao thinks about losing.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>peachtober 2020 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1953295</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>his rival it seems had broken his dreams</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>#peachtober day 2: Raccoon</p><p>I'm not really a raccoon person, so i arrived at the story as raccoon &gt; 'rocky raccoon' &gt; theme of losing &gt; this, and well...a prompt is just a jumping-off point is it not?</p><p>the title is from 'rocky raccoon' (beatles song)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Your brother’s even more of a hardass than you,” says Takao, earning him a slap aimed at his shoulder, which he dodges handily without spilling any of his soda.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are you calling hardass? Dumb brats like you don’t know discipline.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you walked uphill both ways in the snow, right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, Takao’s soda splashes over the edge of the can when he ducks. He still laughs, sticking out his tongue at Miyaji before downing the rest of the can and crushing it in his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway,” says Miyaji. “Maybe we could have used more discipline.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks away when he says this, as if Takao’s face is the glare of a low sun, and, yeah. It’s not like Takao hasn’t had that thought, or a thousand others like it--if he’d tried harder, earlier, to get through to Midorima, if he hadn’t thought about their one-sided rivalry so damn much, if he’d trained harder, longer, even ten more minutes each day. It would all add up, wouldn’t it? But there’s no way of changing the past, and maybe they needed to go through that to where they are. Third place is respectable--it’s what people say, anyway, but it doesn’t feel true when you’re the one in third place and you lost to the second-place team and your last match wasn’t against a team at full strength. The consolation prize isn’t very consoling in these circumstances, and Miyaji and the other third-years don’t get another chance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are other tournaments, college teams and club teams to play against, but it won’t be the same. They don’t hold the meaning that all of this has been building up to, a climax and culmination that ends in nothing. Like Takao’s loss last year, but much worse; he’d known he’d have three years to get his revenge in some fashion, even if that hadn’t turned out to be what happened. There had only been one chance for the two of them together, anyway, and they hadn’t been able to stick the landing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure, Rakuzan was better. But the reason they play the games is that the better team isn’t guaranteed a win. So even if they had practiced a little harder, come together as a team properly a little earlier, would it have made a difference?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Midorima’s voice pops into Takao’s head, “everything humanly possible.” Maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference, but it could have increased their chances--or they could have injured themselves practicing too much and pushing themselves to their limits. It’s tough to say, from this vantage point where they can’t change things, whether the risk would be worth the reward.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Takao’s the last to come out of the locker room after practice. He was the last in from practice, too; Midorima had taken his hundred shots, even farther back than usual, while Takao had dribbled around cones and taken layup after layup, taking two extra for every miss. He’ll be feeling it tomorrow, but he’ll have to drag himself out of bed and go to school and practice all over again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miyaji’s brother Yuuya is waiting when he comes out, eating a bag of potato chips and intently reading the nutrition label. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Waiting for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. You’re the last one out, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takao nods. He’d never thought it was the captain’s duty to wait, but something says he should have some tact--even needling him right now isn’t the right thing to do (but he wants to, like an itchy mosquito bite he absolutely shouldn’t scratch).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walk in silence for a bit, until Yuuya holds out the bag of chips. “You want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” says Takao. “Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither of them speaks until the next block, and it’s Yuuya again that time. “Be level with me. What do you think our chances are this year?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly?” says Takao. “Looks pretty good from here, but there’s a lot I can’t say for sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Such as?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Depends on what our first-years are like. We’re getting Kimura-san’s brother, but who else? Who else ends up starting? I don’t remember any kids the year below me being particularly good, but I wasn’t on the lookout, and a lot changes in a year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pauses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone else is hungry, too, even Seirin and especially Kaijou and Rakuzan. Seirin and Rakuzan haven’t lost too many players. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but--as long as we work hard and stay flexible until we get the new kids, we’ll put ourselves in a good position.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuuya nods and stuffs the empty bag of chips in his coat pocket. “Yeah, I agree.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No yelling, no telling him he’d forgotten something, no argument even for argument’s sake--though, Takao supposes, that’s not really Yuuya’s style. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Midorima said most of the same stuff too,” Yuuya continues. “It’s good to know that we’re all on the same page.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns off at the next corner, and Takao walks the rest of the way alone.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“You know,” Takao says at lunch the next day. “Your brother’s actually nicer than you. He shared his chips with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miyaji rolls his eyes. “I’m nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Takao snorts. “Right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I let you eat lunch with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t give me any food.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever,” says Miyaji. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(He lets Takao eat some of his vegetables. Takao knows he can’t count on that every day, though.)</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Yuuya drives them hard at practice; Takao decides not to stay extra today. He’s still sore from yesterday, and he’s not going to get much done by staying. Midorima’s at about eighty shots when Takao packs it in, lost in his world of counting and precision, in a rhythm all his own. When Takao gets out of the locker room, Yuuya’s there, but so is his brother. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Staying back an extra year, Senpai?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miyaji tweaks his nose. “Brat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Midorima isn’t long after that; he doesn’t ask why all of them are waiting. They all fall into step walking home, though they don’t talk about the upcoming season, or the season that’s still not past the vanishing point in the rearview mirror. But they’re moving toward that point, in their own ways, Takao supposes--and maybe that’s the best indicator of future success.</span>
</p>
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